


Just Too Much

by J (j_writes)



Category: Easy Allies RPF, Gametrailers RPF
Genre: Multi, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-06
Packaged: 2018-05-05 08:50:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5369201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j_writes/pseuds/J
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Can you imagine? Hogger, in love with anyone. Except maybe his axe.“ They expected Huber to laugh at the thought too, but when they looked over at him, he was looking at Ian with an almost troubled expression. "It’d be pretty ridiculous,” Ian prompted, and Huber’s face cleared a little, smiling faintly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Too Much

**Author's Note:**

> [fictional characters based on the internet personas of actual people, doing entirely fictional things.]
> 
> set at a hypothetical event similar to PSX, but structured differently timeline-wise.
> 
> (a note on pronouns: originally published with "he" pronouns during the GT days, updated to "they" following Ian's increased openness about gender at EZA.)

_"Hey, everyone! On today's Huber Hype, we are_ on location _! We are here to check out some_ games _, talk to some people and see what_ they're _hyped for." Huber leaned into the camera, looking at it intently. "It's going to be an intimate experience, here. We're going to get up close and personal with this stuff. Just you and me – " his eyes flickered up past the camera, "well, and Ian."_

_The lens spun around. "Hiiii."_

_Huber waited until he was in frame again and grinned, raising his eyebrows. "Are you hyped?" He demanded. "Because you_ should _be."_  
______________

"What do you think?" Ian asked, letting the heavy bags they were carrying down onto the floor of their hotel room carefully but emphatically. "If I just quit here and now, would Jones hold the camera for you for the rest of the con?"

Huber laughed. "Yeah, I'm _sure_ that'd happen," he said, following Ian into the room and stopping short, looking around. "Damn."

Ian looked up, taking in the room for the first time, and whistled under their breath. "Whoa, shit," they said. "Did they give us Keighley's room by accident?"

"This is _ridiculous_ ," Huber said, tossing his bag onto the couch and crossing to inspect the bedroom.

Ian snapped a picture of Huber marveling in the doorway and texted it to Brandon. _Did someone make a mistake?_

 _Enjoy :)_ came the reply a moment later, accompanied by a picture of a similarly luxurious room. 

Huber was already face down on the bed, legs kicking off the end of it, and Ian took another picture, laughing, and sent it in response. "Jones says it's all ours," they confirmed, and Huber made a muffled noise of joy into the covers.

Ian inspected the rest of the suite while Huber sank deeper into the bed – kitchenette, lounge area, extensive bathroom with a frankly absurd tub, balcony overlooking the pool. No second bedroom. They pulled some bedding from the hall closet and crossed back to the couch, removing Huber's bag and making it up into a cozy nest of blankets.

Huber made a questioning noise as Ian carried his bag into the bedroom, and looked faintly alarmed as he lifted his head to see Ian's things piled on the couch. "Hey, no," he said, pushing up on his arms. "Here, you take the bed. You've been lugging around that camera all day."

"Nah," Ian said, slapping Huber's leg lightly as he fought exhaustion to sit up. "You're already getting comfortable."

"But – "

"We'll trade," Ian offered. "I'll demand that you be a gentleman and take the couch tomorrow night, how about that?" Huber made a quiet grumbling noise, but he let his head fall back into the bed. Ian laughed. "Yeah," they goaded, "fight me on this one. Try." They reached out to ruffle their fingers into the short ends of Huber's hair at the back of his head, and Huber groaned into the bed. "I could probably sleep in the shower right now if given half a chance," Ian said. "That couch is going to be the best thing that's ever happened to me." They yawned hugely, as if proving their point, and scritched Huber's hair one more time before pulling their hand back. "Night."

They showered for longer than they meant to, closing their eyes under the hot spray and completely losing track of time, and by the time they got out, they couldn't see themself in the mirror at all. They wanted to do nothing but shed their towel on the way to the couch and flop down into the blankets fully naked to sleep, but just in case Huber was still awake, they pulled on a t-shirt and underwear instead.

Huber was passed out when they emerged from the bathroom, already snoring, an arm tossed over his eyes, and Ian shut off the bedroom light as they made their way to the couch. They checked their phone and Twitter for about 30 seconds before passing the hell out, phone still in hand, Huber's snores getting louder in the next room.  
______________

 _"Look at this," Huber declared, training the camera on Ian, oblivious as they leaned over a monitor, controller in hand, bobbing back and forth as they played. "Slacking on the_ job _, can you believe this? Bring them here to do work, and they're_ playing games _." He turned the camera toward himself. "You know what?_ Good _. Because that's what this is all about, right?_ Playing _. Getting the_ experience _. Good for you, Hinck. Good for you." He framed Ian up again, zooming in messily for a close-up as they played._  
______________

"You're so _loud_!" Ian yelled at the glass door to the balcony, and Huber paused in pacing back and forth to wave at them cheerfully, phone still pressed to his ear. Ian wasn't quite sure if Huber hadn't understood, or was just trolling them, but it made them laugh anyway, dropping their head against the covers of the bed and rolling over, turning their attention back to their computer.

Huber came back in a few minutes later, sliding the door shut behind him, and Ian propped themself up to look at him. 

"How's Brad?" they asked, and Huber shrugged.

"He's Brad," he replied succinctly. "He and Bosman are going to make it out for the awards this weekend after all."

"Cool," Ian said, dropping back down, and felt the bed dip as Huber flopped full-length onto it beside them.

"I am going to sleep," he declared, "like the _dead_."

Ian grinned, stretching their sore everything. They tipped their head to watch Huber staring dead-eyed up at the ceiling, and decided to blame exhaustion for the fact that the first words that came to mind tumbled right out of their mouth. "There's nothing that's fake about you, is there?"

Huber shrugged against the covers. "I don't know," he said, "there's probably some things."

"Man." Ian tilted his head, cracking their neck. "How do you even live in LA?"

When they looked back at Huber, his lips were curved into a tiny smile. "Brad," he offered.

"Ah," Ian said. "Good point."

Huber rolled onto his side, face smushing into the blanket as he looked at Ian speculatively. "Why?" he asked. "What's fake about you?"

Ian let out an ugly laugh. "You want the list alphabetically or chronologically?"

Huber looked skeptical. "Nah," he said decisively. "You're always like 110% Ian."

It felt like a compliment, said like that, so genuinely, and that was the problem with Huber, wasn't it? Everything he said made Ian want to believe it. "No, but even onscreen," they continued. "You know, everyone else seems to have this character they play, and you're just…" They trailed off, not sure they wanted to continue, but Huber propped himself up on his hand to listen. "You know, I didn't think I was going to like you," Ian said, "when we met."

"Yeah," Huber said, sounding a little flat. "Some people have that reaction."

"No, I mean, you're just…you're so _much_ in your videos, or when you're excited about something, and I was a little afraid that you _weren't_ , actually. That it was some bit you were doing, like you were taking a shot at people who were that into things. If you were like that ironically? For laughs? You'd basically be the most obnoxious person in the entire universe. You'd be everything I fucking despise about this industry. I spent months expecting you to break character or something, and you never did, because that's just _you_. Even coming here this week, I kind of thought, maybe it's just a work thing, right? Maybe you shut it off when you're getting ready for bed, or getting up in the morning, or…ever. But I don't think you even _can_. It must be exhausting."

Huber smiled tiredly. "That's what Brad says. That I'm exhausting."

"No, but that's the thing. You're not, to be around. I mean, maybe for Brad, who's had like twenty years of you, but…I don't know, you should make me tired just by being here with you, like a caffeine crash or something, but…" Ian shrugged. "Instead, it's kind of weirdly invigorating." They grinned. "A Huber rush."

Huber laughed. "Yeah?" he asked, sounding pleased. 

"Yeah," Ian agreed, and couldn't really think of anything more to say, so they were relieved when Huber's eyes dropped to their screen and lit up.

"Oh, I saw you playing this one on the floor," he said, sitting up and leaning in to check out the gameplay Ian was running through.

"Yeah, I wanted to check on the capture before I sent it back to Don," they said. 

"She's pretty," Huber said as the camera panned around Ian's avatar, and Ian couldn't help smiling a little. They hadn't spent much time in character customization, just long enough that the character felt like _them_ , with her flowing hair and sharp stealthy moves, like the kind of character they'd want to lose themself pretending to be for weeks.

"Yeah," they agreed, and Huber hooked his chin over Ian's shoulder, watching her slice a wolf to pieces.

"Graceful and deadly," he pronounced her. "I think I'd rather charge in there with an _axe_ , though. None of this _sneaking around_ business."

Ian grinned. "I'm shocked," they said. "Well, when it comes out, you'll have to grab an axe and hop in there with me."

"Count me _in_ ," Huber declared. He watched the gameplay for a few more moments, then settled back against the headboard with his phone, eyes flickering up to the screen every so often as Ian scrolled through the footage. When they got to a particular badass move they'd pulled on an ogre they were fighting, Ian rolled over to show the computer to Huber, but Huber's eyes were closed, head tilted back against the pillows, fast asleep. 

"Figures," Ian said quietly, "you fall asleep like you do everything else. Nothing but 100% commitment from Michael Huber." They half expected Huber to stir at his voice, but Huber was totally gone, breath quiet but even. "That's not going to be comfortable," Ian informed him, shuffling around to get themself under the covers, shutting off the light and the TV, but Huber stayed there, slumped against the pillows, not quite snoring. "Night," Ian offered into the darkness, and predictably received no response.

They weren't sure how late it was when they woke to the feeling of Huber jerking awake beside them, but they couldn't manage more than a questioning grumble in Huber's direction as he started upright, gasping for breath.

"What – ?" Huber burst out. "Where - ?"

"Hotel," Ian replied, voice scratchy with sleep. "Vegas. And before you get to 'who,' Ian." They reached out, intending to pat Huber's chest reassuringly, but their fingers made contact with Huber's cheek instead, so they rubbed them lightly over the faint stubble there before dropping them down across his neck to tug at the collar of his shirt. "Bed," they muttered commandingly, tugging Huber down under the covers. "Sleeping."

They expected Huber to protest, to pull away and roll off the bed toward the couch, but instead he followed the motion of Ian's hand, tucking himself under the sheets beside Ian, skin chilled in comparison to the warm nest of blankets. He made a quiet content noise, burying his face in the pillow, and Ian went to pull their hand back from Huber's chest, but Huber's hand clamped down over it, tangling their fingers together.

"You're warm," he said, hugging Ian's hand to him, and Ian scooted a bit closer to him in the bed, Huber letting out a long happy sigh as Ian's warm legs stretched out alongside his. It should have felt weird, curling up in bed together like this, but it was _Huber_ , who touched so casually, who Ian had cuddled with on a couch countless times, and somehow it didn't feel that different, wrapping themself around Huber and letting their eyes fall closed again.

It wasn't even weird in the morning, waking up to Huber still stretched out beside them, awake but not pulling away, one arm comfortably tucked around Ian while the other held his phone over his face, scrolling through the internet. 

"I ordered room service for breakfast," he said, and Ian rolled closer to him, pressing his face into Huber's chest and hiding from the sunlight streaming in through the window.

"Coffee?" they asked.

"Coffee," Huber confirmed.

"You are a perfect beautiful angel of a man," Ian told him, and closed their eyes again, burying their face in Huber's shirt.  
______________

 _"Another day on the floor!" Huber announced. "We're going to take you guys around, look at some_ games _."_

_"You're just going to put this on the green screen, aren't you?" Ian asked from behind the camera._

_"Yeah? Why?"_

_"I mean, you're just going to do all of this again. You don't really need to intro it."_

_"What are you suggesting?" Huber asked, leaning in. "That I shouldn't be_ hyped _, Ian?"_

_Ian gave a deep sigh. "That you should get out of the shot so I can shoot some of this b-roll! We're just going to cut all of this!"_

_Huber eyed the camera. "Don? Don't cut this. Leave this_ in, _so everyone can see how much Ian hates_ fun _, and_ excitement _."_

 _"I'm sure that will be shocking," Ian said dryly, and neatly panned away from Huber, leaving him behind._  
______________

Ian was sitting on the floor of the bedroom when they heard the door open, makeup scattered around them, nose an inch from the full length mirror. "Welcome home, Hubesley," they called, and waited for the sound of Huber's footsteps padding in from the door.

"Oh." Huber stopped in the doorway, looking startled at the sight of Ian there, tracing on eyeliner carefully. "Hi."

"Hey," Ian drawled, meeting his eyes in the mirror.

"Looks nice," Huber said, and settled onto the bed behind them.

Ian batted their eyelashes at Huber and turned, brandishing the eyeliner. "Want some?"

Huber's face flickered into a grin, but it disappeared almost as quickly. "No," he said, uncharacteristically quiet. "Thanks."

Ian shrugged. "Your loss," they said. "And mine," they added, winking outrageously.

Huber smiled appreciatively, but didn't respond. Instead, he looked down at the clothes laid out on the bed. "Wow," he said, running a hand over the soft fabric. 

"I brought it in case I felt like wearing it to the awards," Ian replied, "but I don't know. I think it might be a little…much." 

"I think you'd look amazing," Huber said without hesitating, and Ian flashed him a smile in the mirror.

"Thanks," they said sincerely, "but I feel like it might be more drama than it's worth tomorrow night, so I'm going to take it for a spin tonight instead."

Huber's eyes narrowed. "If anyone wanted to cause drama over that, I would take them _out_."

Ian laughed. "Kind of my point."

"I mean it," Huber insisted, hands curling almost unconsciously into fists, and Ian reached out for one of them, making Huber give them a pull until they were standing instead.

"I know you do," they said, meaning it to come out kind of mocking, but they couldn't quite keep the fond smile from his face. "But no, I have something equally fabulous picked out for the awards, don't you worry. And this is coming out with me tonight. We're in Vegas, right? Bosman would probably disown us if we didn't place a few bets." Ian grabbed the dress from beside Huber, tossing off the long t-shirt that had been covering their underthings and shimmying into it. It wasn't the first time they'd changed in front of each other, wasn't even the first time Huber had seen them in pretty lacy underwear, but it was different, somehow, than him catching a glimpse in the GT bathroom, the two of them alone in this extravagant bedroom, Huber sitting on the bed that they'd shared the night before. Ian didn't miss the way Huber's eyes were fixed on them as they smoothed the fabric down over their skin, shivering a little at the touch of their fingers over their hips with Huber's eyes on them. "What do you think?" they asked, striking a pose. 

Huber's eyes were huge. "It's…you're…" He had to swallow before he could finish. "Stunning."

Ian let the pose drop, a genuine smile spreading across their face as they raked their hair back. "Thanks." They should have known to expect nothing out of Huber but an honest compliment, but it was still a little flustering, the way Huber couldn't take his eyes off them, so they ducked into the bathroom to check their hair in the mirror there, splashing some water onto their fingers and using it to pat their hair down, dripping onto their face, cooling their still flushed cheeks.

"So," Ian said finally, when they were ready to face Huber again, emerging from the bathroom and leaning against the door frame, "are you wearing that, or…?" They waved at Huber's plaid shirt.

Huber looked down at himself. "I. Um. Me?" he asked. He looked up at Ian. "Oh, I thought you were going out to…" he made a vague gesture that could mean anything at all.

"Blow some of my money at a skeezy Vegas club, yeah, I am. You in? From what I hear, you're a plinko man."

Huber grinned. "Lucky _Hit_ ," he corrected. He eyed Ian almost warily. "You wouldn't mind?" he asked. "If I…tag along?"

Ian made a face. "You're not _tagging along_ ," they said. They kicked Huber's suitcase toward him. "Come on," they said. "You're not going to make me go out on the town by myself, are you? What should I do, text Jones?" They reached for their phone, and Huber laughed, dropping off the bed to his knees to rifle through his bag.

"I don't know, I think he'd be fun at an amusement park or something, but not in Vegas," Huber replied.

"He'd be obnoxious as _fuck_ at an amusement park," Ian pointed out. "All the Disney history you never needed to know, and then some."

Ian wandered out into the main room while Huber changed to get their shoes, settling into the blankets on the couch and pulling them on, catching sight of Huber's naked back as he switched shirts and whistling out a catcall. Huber was laughing when he turned around, blushing slightly.

"It's a _t-shirt_ , Ian," he pointed out. "I didn't bring anything _fancy_ like you. I mean, I brought a suit, but I'm saving that for tomorrow." 

Ian stood, stretching their legs, getting used to the shoes, and crossed to the bedroom door. "No, but you look nice," they said. Huber was in a simple black shirt and matching pants, looking classic and solid, and Ian grinned at him. "I mean, you look a little bit like my bodyguard, but we can roll with that."

Huber laughed. "I can play that role," he agreed. "Ready to take anyone _out_ if they start shit with you. The strong, silent type."

"Whoa, let's not go too far with this," Ian replied. "You? Strong, I might buy, but _silent_?"

Huber crossed his arms and stared Ian down, and Ian grinned. "My hero," they said, reaching out to squeeze Huber's arm and pretending to swoon, and Huber caught them around the waist easily, laughing.

"Your bodyguard," he continued, "your constant shadow, looking out for you at all times, secretly _passionately_ in love with you." He backed up from Ian, eyeing them both in the mirror. "What do you think? Is it a good cover?"

"Yeah, I think we could pull that off," Ian said. "You'd be like a modern day Hogger. No weapons, just his fists." They laughed. "Hogger, but in love with me. Can you imagine? Hogger, in love with anyone. Except maybe his axe." They expected Huber to laugh at the thought too, but when they looked over at him, he was looking at Ian with an almost troubled expression. "It'd be pretty ridiculous," Ian prompted, and Huber's face cleared a little, smiling faintly.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Would have made for some good drama."

Ian grinned. "Maybe next season. If there is a next season."

"Fat _chance_ ," Huber said. 

"Well, you'll just have to play the part to perfection now instead, then," Ian said. Huber put on what Ian was pretty sure was his mock serious face, and Ian grinned. "Yeah, like that." They let their hips shake a little as they led the way to the door, and when they glanced over their shoulder, Huber was staring in a way that Ian couldn't wait to make him do all night. "You coming?"

"Uh. Yeah." Huber followed, and as they exited the door to the hotel room, he let a hand drop to Ian's waist, brief but solid and protective, and when Ian glanced up at him, they could see Huber giving him a sneaky little smile, like _two can play that game_.  
______________

 _"So we're here in Vegas. Maybe we'll go out on the_ town _. Play some slots. Make some sweet loot."_

_"Must be nice!" Ian offered from behind the camera._

_"Must. Be. Nice."_  
______________

"I can't believe you didn't let her buy you a drink," Huber was saying as Ian let them back into the hotel room.

"I don't drink," Ian pointed out.

"A soda, then. A _juice_. She was _gorgeous_."

"She was," Ian admitted.

"So?" Huber prompted.

Ian laughed. "Are you trying to retroactively wingman me, here? Where were you at the time?"

"Giving you _space_ ," Huber replied. "Which apparently didn't do you any good." He shook his head in mocking disappointment. "Complain all the time about how you can't find love, and you _scorn_ it when it's offered."

He dropped down onto the bed, kicking off his shoes, and Ian was too tired and ready to be out of their constricting clothes to give it much of a thought before tossing off the dress, stripping to the waist and stretching luxuriously. 

"Some pretty girl buying me a drink in Vegas?" Ian asked. "That's not love. Best case scenario, that's a one night stand."

"You don't know," Huber said. "Haven't you watched any movie ever? That girl could have been your soulmate."

Ian laughed. "In the movies I watch, it'd be more likely she was after my heart in a less metaphorical sense."

Huber chuckled, faintly red as he watched Ian take off their makeup in the mirror, still shirtless. "I'm just saying. Missed opportunities."

"What, the 'opportunity' for a probably bad hookup in some hotel room on a business trip? No thanks. I don't think I've quite reached midlife crisis level just yet." They raised their eyebrows at Huber in the mirror. "You're so invested in the idea, maybe I should have sent her in your direction."

Huber smiled. "I think if you're someone's type, I'm probably not going to appeal to them much. I'm not very…pretty."

Ian grabbed the t-shirt they'd been wearing before they went out, pulling it on over their head and rumpling their hair in the process. "Fuck that," they said as he ran their fingers through it, patting it back down. "You're beautiful." When they turned back to Huber, they expected to find him rolling his eyes or something, but he was just sitting there on the edge of the bed, looking up at Ian steadily, a little skeptically. "Hey," Ian said, stepping forward and cupping a hand lightly against Huber's jaw. "You're a beautiful human being, Michael Huber. You're just going to have to deal with that." They swept away as quickly as they'd leaned in, ducking into the bathroom to shed their underthings and pull on a pair of boxers instead, and when they emerged, Huber was gone, the door to the balcony hanging open.

"Don't worry," Ian announced, following Huber out onto the balcony. "You can quit feeling inadequate or whatever, I'm done being pretty."

Huber had changed into his pajamas too, flannel pants and a t-shirt that was a few sizes too big for him, so he looked oddly young and wide-eyed as he turned to look Ian over. "Don't say stuff like that," he said, a little gruffly.

Ian leaned on the railing next to him, raising their eyebrows. "Okay," they said easily. "You're not feeling inadequate, sorry."

Huber's brow furrowed. "No, about _you_." His eyes shifted away from Ian. "You're pretty," he muttered. "You're _always_ pretty."

"Aww." Ian leaned to bump their shoulders together. "You're a goddamn prince, you know that? That girl should have bought you a drink. You'd have made her night."

"Nah," Huber replied. "I don't think that I would have."

Ian looked over at him to object, opening their mouth to give Huber some kind of confidence boost, but as they met Huber's eyes, all they could think was how nice they were, how they had felt them on him and broken away from the girl at the bar to slide down and settle by his side, how it had been infinitely better to make his face crinkle up with laughter than it had to flirt with the girl at all. How they wanted to do it again, to make him laugh, and blush, and – 

Huber was the one who surged forward, his fingers landing warm and steady against the side of Ian's face, but Ian melted into the touch of his mouth immediately, turning their body to Huber, their hands sliding around Huber's waist, settling at the waistband of his pants, feeling his skin heated under their touch through the thin fabric of his shirt. It was a deep kiss, frenzied and passionate and everything that Ian would have expected from Huber, and Ian was losing themself entirely in it when Huber let out a quiet broken sound into his mouth and tore himself away, gasping for breath.

"I'm – " he burst out, "I can't."

Ian let their hands fall to their sides, painfully empty, his lips tingling, breath unsteady, but they nodded, letting Huber turn back toward the bedroom, pushing down everything inside of them making them want to reach out for him. 

"Okay," they said, trying to steady their voice. They swallowed and tried again. "Okay." There were a million reasons why it was a bad idea, and Ian wanted nothing more than to reason their way through each of them, explain them away, but Huber looked so conflicted and miserable when he turned back to look at Ian that the words died on their lips. "Hey," they said instead, stepping forward, letting themself touch Huber, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and feeling Huber lean into the touch almost gratefully, feeling him shaking against them. "It's fine," they said. "We're good."

"Yeah?" Huber asked, looking at them so openly and hopefully, and Ian squeezed him tightly before giving him a little push toward the bedroom.

"Absolutely."

Huber paused at the door, holding it open for Ian, and Ian waved at the balcony in a _I'm going to stay here for a minute_ gesture. They waited until Huber had disappeared into the room to lean back against the wall of the hotel, letting themself slide down slowly, the bricks scraping at their back until they were on the ground. They tilted their head back against the wall too hard, the sting and the noise doing nothing to dull the sharp disappointment.

" _Fuck_ ," they said aloud, and fished their phone out of their pocket.

 _So, hypothetically speaking,_ they texted Elyse, _it's probably not a great idea to go around kissing your coworkers, is it?_

Her response was almost immediate, six exclamation points followed by a line of smiley faces.

They replied with a :/

_I mean, I'm not exactly in a position to advise against it right now_ , she continued. _Bosman's ass finally got to you, huh?_

 _Huber_ , they replied succinctly, and there was a long pause.

 _No shit?_ immediately followed by every party emoji she could find.

 _No shit,_ they replied, hoping that she read it with exactly the dry tone they intended.

_So is this a 'get him, girl' conversation, or a 'that's rough, buddy' conversation?_

Ian stared at their phone for a long time before responding. _I'm not sure._

_Get him rough, buddy!_

Ian breathed out a laugh. _Why do I tell you anything?_

_Because Omar doesn't want to hear about you kissing people?_

_True._

They lapsed into silence for a long moment, Ian staring down at the "…" of Elyse typing on their screen. _Look,_ she said finally, _you know what I think. Anything that makes you happy, I'm all for. You want to kiss Huber, go kiss Huber. Just let me know if I need to threaten him with bodily harm at any point, okay? Because_ \- instead of finishing the sentence, she included six boxing emojis. _Also,_ she added after a moment's pause, _James would like me to mention that he thinks Huber would be a wildcat in bed._

Ian let out a choked laugh. _There's a thought I didn't need to have._

_You're welcome!_

They sent her a heart and sat there for a few more moments, looking out at the lights over the pool and hoping that Huber would be asleep already when they went back in.

When they finally did push themself up to their feet to return to the room, they expected to find Huber sprawled out over the bed, taking up all the space, but instead he was curled up neatly to one side, and had folded the sheets open for Ian like an invitation. Ian paused, tugging on the blankets a little, and Huber didn't open his eyes, but scooted a little further away, making more room. He wasn't asleep, fingers curled tight into the covers, body too still, breath quiet but ragged, and it wasn't until Ian reached to turn off the light that they could feel Huber relax a little beside them.

They could tell Huber was still tensed up, waiting for them to speak, and part of them wanted to, but it was too late, they were too tired, and they weren't sure that it wouldn't just devolve into them leaning in to kiss Huber again, swallowing what were probably very reasonable objections in favor of feeling Huber's body responding under them, his lips pliant and quiet but for the gasps that Ian drew out of them. They scooted closer instead, a silent gesture in the form of warmth and contact, and felt Huber melt against them, some of the tension between them dissolving as they folded themselves together almost familiarly.

"Look," Huber said eventually, his breath warm against Ian's collarbone, and Ian tightened their arm around him, hoping he'd stop there, but he continued. "I'm – "

"Don't," Ian broke in. "We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Huber made a quiet almost miserable noise against their skin, but he nodded. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Okay."

They didn't talk about it in the morning. Instead, Ian woke to their phone ringing insistently and answered it to find Brandon on the other end.

"So, the Naughty Dog meeting got bumped up. Can you be functional in like ten minutes?"

"I'll see you in five," Ian promised, and hung up. Huber made a quiet questioning noise beside them, and Ian extracted themself from Huber's grasp. "Hey, I've got to go." Huber's fingers tangled into Ian's shirt and he let out a grumbling sound of protest. "Don't worry," Ian said, removing Huber's hand, "you get to stay in bed."

Huber mumbled quietly in assent and let Ian tuck the blankets back around him. "C'm back when you're done?" he asked almost pitifully.

Ian smoothed his hair down where it was sticking up against the pillow. "Probably not," they said, "but I'll see you out there."

"Mn," Huber replied, and rolled over, wrapping himself into the blankets like a burrito and passing out again. Ian took just a moment to be jealous before grabbing clothes from their bag and heading off to the bathroom to get presentable.  
______________

 _"Ian." There was a long pause. "_ Ian _." Brandon leaned in to snap his fingers at the camera, and the image jolted._

 _"Yeah," said Ian from behind it. "Yeah, no, I'm here. We're good."_  
______________

" _There_ you are." Huber called as Ian let himself into the suite. "Jones just texted, they're meeting in the lobby in a couple of minutes."

"Yeah, sorry, the elevator was like – " Ian was in the middle of explaining as they followed Huber's voice into the bedroom, and stopped short at the sight of him, standing in front of the mirror, tying his tie while intently inspecting his reflection.

Huber met their eyes in the mirror and raised his eyebrows. "What?" he asked, turning to face Ian, fingers still tugging at his tie. "Does it look…?"

"It looks good," Ian said, their voice a little rough, and they pretended not to notice the way the color rose in Huber's cheeks as they reached out to pat the tie on their way to the bathroom, Huber's hands falling away from it. "I'm just going to shower, I'll meet you guys down there."

"Yeah," Huber was saying vaguely as Ian shut the door. They showered quickly, dressed even quicker, and emerged into the hotel lobby to find Brandon, Huber, Brad, and Kyle in a tight knot by the door.

Ian wolf whistled as they approached them. "Aren't you a fine looking bunch of gentlemen?"

"And you as well," Brandon replied, nodding at him.

"Wellll," Ian said, and made a _kinda_ gesture as they sidled up alongside Huber. Kyle smiled appreciatively, and the others didn't react. "Bosman," Ian said, "your ass looks phenomenal in those pants."

"Okay!" Brandon said loudly, ushering Brad toward the exit. "And I think that's our cue to head out."

"Sorry, Jones," Ian said. "But you can't deny the appeal."

"Oh, I can, and I will," Brandon objected. "Vehemently, if needed."

Ian fell into step with Kyle as they walked the few blocks to the venue, Huber and Brad chatting behind them, Brandon turning around every so often to add commentary, and they split off as they arrived, Brandon and Kyle steering over to say hello to some people, Huber pausing to take a picture of something they'd been talking about on Huber Hype, and Brad sidled up beside Ian like he thought he was being subtle.

"Yes?" Ian prompted.

"You've got to stop."

"What?"

Brad leaned against the wall beside them. "With Mike. Look, I know you don't mean anything by it, but he's – " he waved a hand. "You know him."

"Yeah, you're not actually not the only one who does," Ian said, knowing their tone was going sharp but unable to stop it. 

Brad sighed. "Look, it's just – it's like Bosman, right? You flirt with Bosman, and he just doesn't engage. He'll just let it roll off his back and basically just ignore you until you finish whatever bit you're doing. Mike…he'd probably be better off if he could do that, but he doesn't just let things go, you know?"

"Yeah," Ian replied, a touch impatiently. "I know. So?"

Brad held up his hands like it was obvious, until Ian gave him a _get on with it_ look, at which he let out an explosive sigh. "You're not gay!"

"Well." Ian made a face. "I mean, only if you're assuming I'm a man. Because otherwise, yeah I actually _am_ pretty gay."

"Okay, yes, whatever, you _are_ gay. The point is, you don't like dudes, and Mike does, and you can categorize it as harmless flirting all you want, but it's not like when you do it with Elyse, or Kyle, or me, okay? It's just not. It's different."

"Elyse likes guys," Ian pointed out. "And so do you, unless I'm reading things incredibly wrong. And also I'm not actually a guy. So it's not really that different, it's just that you're not sworn to defend Elyse or Bosman's honor or whatever." They patted Brad's arm. "It's cute, don’t get me wrong, but Huber's an adult who gets to make his own decisions about who he lets flirt with him, even if you think they're going to be bad for him."

"What?" Brad looked at them, looking faintly annoyed that Ian was so wildly missing his point. "No, I think you'd be amazing for him, are you kidding me? It's just, you know, you like ladies, and Mike's not one. Look, Ian, you're cool, okay? We're cool. You just haven't weathered a lifetime of Michael Huber falling passionately in love with people he can't have. I'm just asking you to think about it like it's your best friend, okay? Imagine it's Elyse, who can't act for shit, and every time she gets pulled into a role-playing game, she just plays herself, but more badass, herself, but more serious. And every one of those characters, they fall for the same person. Every time. I don't even know if he notices that he's doing it, but…Mike falls into patterns, okay? That's just how he works. And those patterns…they never mean nothing. So I'm just asking you to not make it harder on him. Good?"

"Good," Ian replied absently, rolling the phrase _passionately in love_ over in their mind again. It had sounded so outrageous from Huber, in the hotel room, like a character he'd put on for ManUps, but Brad was right – Huber didn't really do characters, not ones that were that different from himself. Except… "Hogger," Ian objected, and Brad looked at them strangely. "I mean, Fiasco, fine, I'm always encouraging everyone to create these complicated romances because they make for good drama, but Hogger's like physically incapable of being in love with anyone, and Huber played him for a year."

"I…" Brad looked kind of at a loss. "Do you _watch_ Tabletop?"

"No," Ian said. "Who has time for that? Do _you_?"

"No, not really, but…Mike told me some stuff about it."

Ian shrugged. "Yeah? So?"

"So he made you leave at one point, right? So you wouldn't hear what he was saying?"

"Oh." Ian scrubbed their fingers through their hair. "Yeah, I guess. I'd forgotten about that."

"And you never went back to watch it?"

"No," Ian said. "They all said I shouldn't, and then I just kind of forgot."

"Well." Brad shrugged. "Maybe you should at some point." His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out, looking distracted.

"Sure," Ian said. "Yeah, okay. I'm gonna – " they gestured over their shoulder toward the building, and Brad nodded, not looking up at their.

"Yeah, sure, I'll see you in there. Just…think about it, okay?"

"Oh," Ian muttered, almost to themself, "I'm thinking about it," as they made their way inside.

They pulled up a bench in a corner, near the entrance to the theater, and they pulled out their phone. It took some googling, but they found the episode eventually, scrubbing to the end and watching themself leave the room with Bosman. The conversation between Huber and Elyse was brief but intense, Ben practically doubling over with laughter, and Ian could remember the moment so clearly as they watched themself returning, joking about how they were going to watch it, everyone demanding they didn't. Huber was watching them, not looking embarrassed at all, in fact looking like he'd just pulled off an amazing trick, and Ian found themself wondering how the rest of the show might have gone if they'd known, if they'd spent the rest of the time as Lailia with this underlying knowledge that every time Huber looked at them, talked to them, jumped to their defense, there was something more to it than what was on the surface.

"Hey." Ian tucked their phone away at the sound of Huber's voice, and Huber leaned awkwardly next to them. "Brad said you'd come in, but when you weren't at our seats…" He trailed off, and Ian stood beside him, stretching.

"Here I am," they said mildly. They felt stilted, awkward, watching Huber too intently, and Huber looked faintly embarrassed as he met Ian's eyes.

"Look," he said, "you didn't let me apologize last night, so I'm doing it now, before we go in there. I don't want this to be weird, okay? I don't want _us_ to be weird. I didn't respect what you wanted, I just…went for it. And I shouldn't have. I'm not saying this because I want you to be cool with it, or with me. I get that it wasn't okay, and – "

"Huber," Ian interrupted, but Huber barreled on.

"I'm not always great at…you know. Boundaries. I'm working on it, but – "

"Huber!"

Huber's mouth snapped shut.

"Did you ever stop to think for one second that this idea you have of 'what I want' may not even be accurate? That everything you're assuming about what I'm into comes through some kind of Brad filter? That maybe you should just _ask_?"

"I…" Huber hesitated. "No?" he offered.

"Well. Maybe," Ian held out their hands, "you should just ask."

Huber swallowed, looking at Ian like he was expecting some kind of trick. He bit his lip and slowly, in an almost unfamiliarly uncertain voice, asked, "Ian? What do you want?"

"Right now?" Ian asked. "I'd really like to kiss you again, if that's okay."

For a second, they thought that was going to be it, that Huber was going to let Ian reach for him right there in the lobby, in full view of anyone who cared to walk by and see them, but instead, Huber looked at them, still wearing the expression of someone waiting for the other shoe to drop, and he asked, "Why?"

" _Why_?" Ian repeated.

Huber shrugged, looking down at his feet. "Look, what I did last night, it was a mistake, okay? I don't want you to feel like you _owe_ me something, like you have to try this out for the sake of our _friendship_ or whatever."

"You think it was a mistake?" Ian asked, and Huber looked up at them like he genuinely wasn't sure if he did or not. "Because I don't," Ian continued. "And I sure as hell don't want to do it again out of some sense of obligation or friendship or whatever kind of bullshit reasons you think, okay?" They took a step closer. "I want to do it again because it was fucking hot, Huber. Because I fell asleep last night thinking about it, and I think Jones had to snap me out of zoning out imagining it about six times today, and because I saw you in that tie in the room and all I wanted to do was reach out and grab it and pull you in to kiss you. Because I liked it, and I like _you_ , and with anyone else in the world I probably would never say that I know you like me back, but I _do_ , because you don't know how to be subtle, and you've made every character you've ever created be interested in mine, you've given me every sign you possibly could that you're into me, and I've missed them. I missed every one of them, because I thought that was just you being _you_ , not you trying to give me signals." He shrugged. "I got the signals, finally. And I want to kiss you. That's why."

"I'm…I can't breathe," Huber said. His eyes were wide, hand pressed to his chest, and from anyone else, Ian would have thought it was overblown, melodramatic, but Huber was staring at them with such a genuinely overwhelmed expression that they reached out, placed a hand over Huber's, and they could feel the rhythm of his heart beating frantically through his shirt.

"Hey," Ian said. "Don't die on me, here. It's all good, okay?"

Huber nodded slowly, shakily, his eyes dropping to Ian's hand pressed over his, rising and falling with his breath. "Yeah," he said carefully, like he was steadying himself. "Yeah, okay." He pulled back out of Ian's grasp, and it was almost a disappointment, losing the feeling of him warm and jittery there beside them. He turned, pacing slow steps in one direction and then back, not quite looking at Ian.

"I didn't think it was a secret," he said finally. "I wasn't _hiding_ anything, I just thought that you knew. And you weren't interested. Which is _fine_ ," he added hastily, looking up at Ian. "I get it, you like girls, and I'm not one, and that's fine, that's great. I just…" he trailed off, words fading away. "I'll stop," he said instead, solidly, definitively. He looked tired, defeated, the kind of look that made Ian want to punch the lights out of whoever had stolen the joy from him, except this time it was _Ian_ , and that hadn't been what they'd meant at all, this was all wrong, and Brad was going to skin them alive for hurting Huber –

"No!" they blurted out, startling Huber and himself, but they barged on. "Look, that's not what I'm saying, I don't _want_ you to stop. You're…loud and passionate and beautiful and overwhelming, and you're the only person I know who wants to be touching people even more than I do, and you _care_ about things so much, and you're persuasive and honest, and you make me want to be that person too, but – " They broke off, taking in the way Huber was frozen, listening to their words, so focused and intent, and Ian _wanted_ that, wanted all of Huber's passionate attention, wanted to know what it felt like to hold him as he shook with excitement, to catch his gasps in their mouth, to try to prove to this amazingly earnest and relentlessly optimistic man that somehow his sheer existence made Ian just a little less hopeless about the world. "But I'm not," they finished. "I'm not that person."

"Good," Huber said fervently. "I'm not interested in you because you're like _me_. That would be so _boring_. But you think you're not passionate? Honest? Are you _kidding_ me? You don't expect the best from anything, but you try to find or create the beauty in it anyway. That's _inspirational_. It's beautiful. And _you're_ \- " He didn't finish, didn't repeat _beautiful_ , but his face said it for him, and Ian couldn't stay separate from him any longer. They moved forward into Huber's space and felt Huber draw in a sharp breath. "Please," he said, his voice sounding hoarse. "I can't…I'm not going to pretend that you're not…" He swallowed. "You know. Attractive." He let a hand fall to Ian's side, curving against their hipbone, holding them a careful distance away. His eyes were pleading as they met Ian's. "Don't make me try, okay?"

Ian dropped their eyes almost shyly before meeting Huber's, knowing exactly how he'd respond, but still gratified by the way his fingers tightened against Ian's skin, his eyes flickering to Ian's lips like it was taking all his effort not to kiss them. "I have no intention," Ian said, "of making you pretend anything."

Huber colored slightly. "Yeah?"

"I'm not fucking around here, Huber. I'm taking a page out of your book, okay? Direct and to the point. No _nonsense_." It wasn't a great Huber impression, but it was enough to draw a smile out of him.

"So, you…don't like girls?" Huber ventured, looking immensely relieved.

"Oh, no, I _love_ girls," Ian confirmed. "I'm completely obsessed with girls." They leaned in, pressing against the grip of Huber's fingers, working themself closer until their stubble was nearly scratching against Huber's cheek. "It just turns out that I'm completely obsessed with you, too."

Huber breathed out long and slow, and Ian was _so close_ to leaning in to kiss him when they heard Brandon's voice from down the hall. Huber let out a quiet protesting noise, and Ian didn't quite pull back, peering around Huber's shoulder to give him a wave of _we'll be right there_. Brandon hesitated for a moment, almost doing a double take at the sight of them, and Ian could see him shaking his head in fond exasperation as he turned back to the auditorium.

"Let's ditch this thing," Ian said, tangling their fingers into Huber's coat, and Huber laughed, lifting his hands to cover Ian's.

"God, I _wish_ ," he sighed. He gently pried Ian's hands away, stepping back a few paces, but when he turned for the theater, he kept one of Ian's hands clutched in his. Ian followed a step behind him, looking down at their twisted fingers, their pink nails bright against Huber's skin. They took their hand back as they reached the door, but Huber shifted into step behind them, settling a hand warm and almost protective against their lower back as they made their way to their seats.

Huber was flushed as they settled down at the table with the others, so Ian met Brandon's faintly suspicious smile with a bright grin of his own and immediately engaged Kyle in conversation to try to deflect from the way Huber was still looking a little dazed, leaning in towards Brad, the two of them talking in hushed tones. Brad looked up at Ian, meeting his eyes with Huber still whispering in his ear, and gave an almost grim nod of what might have been approval before the lights went down in the theater.

The show was endless, Huber's leg jittering distractingly under the table until Ian reached down to clamp a hand over his knee, holding it steady. Huber's eyes went wide, but he stilled, and just when Ian was about to pull their hand back, Huber's fell over it, warm and solid, and it was so ridiculous, sitting there holding hands under the table like a couple of teenagers, that Ian couldn't quite keep themself from laughing quietly. Beside him, Kyle glanced over, wanting in on the joke, and Ian waved him away, an _it's not important_ gesture, but they kept their hand there against Huber's leg, slowly creeping it toward his inner thigh, seeing how far they could get before Huber went bright red.

Even under the lowered lights, Ian could tell that it wasn't very far at all.

The show went too slowly, most of the moments any of the spectators would remember glossed over in this haze of Huber sitting next to them, too close, too inaccessible, and Ian was glad that they'd already filmed ManUps, that they weren't the one with a podcast about this to get through later in the week, because they were utterly distracted the whole time. The lights came up, and Huber stood abruptly as Brandon leaned in towards them.

"Hey, I said I'd got get drinks with some people after the show. You're all welcome to – "

"I don't feel well," Huber announced. "I'm gonna go. Have fun, Jones." He made a beeline for the door, and Brandon looked at Brad questioningly.

"Is he…?"

"He'll be fine," Brad said, looking completely unconcerned.

Ian pushed back from the table. "I'm just going to go check on him," he said.

"Yeah," Kyle said, "yeah, good idea. You're rooming with him, so you've probably already got whatever germs he has."

"Gee, thanks," Ian said dryly.

Kyle smiled at them brightly. "Good luck!"

"I'll text you where we're headed," Brandon offered, "if you want to meet up with us later." He gave Ian a look that indicated that he knew Ian had no intention of any such thing.

"Great, thanks," Ian replied, and hurried off after Huber.

They thought they'd catch up to Huber outside the venue, or on the street, but they made it back to the hotel without running into him, waited impatiently for the elevator, tapping an unsteady rhythm against the railing inside while it rode up to their floor, jittery and oddly nervous in a way no one had made them in years. They paused outside the door to their hotel room, almost wanting to knock, to give Huber some kind of warning, but instead the door burst open in front of them, Huber standing there practically vibrating with matching nervousness.

"Hi," he said, stepping back to let Ian into the room. He looked disheveled, his tie hanging undone around his neck, hair rumpled like he'd been running his hands through it, and Ian took a second to appreciate it as a good look before they stepped in, reaching to touch their own hands to Huber's hair, giving him a teasing smile as they raked their fingers through it, not quite fitting their bodies together, but getting right into Huber's space, kicking the door shut behind them.

"Hi," Ian replied, slow and drawn out, and watched some of the nervousness fade from Huber's face as it melted into a smile, his hands hovering uncertainly before coming to rest against Ian's waist.

"So I'd like to take you up on that kiss now," Huber said.

Ian tilted their head almost coyly, waiting for Huber to make the next move. "Mmhm," they replied, raising their eyebrows in a _come and take it, then_ expression, and they couldn't help but be delighted by the way Huber's eyes lit up at the challenge.

Huber tilted his head in Ian's hands, assessing like he was strategizing his plan of attack, and then he was leaning in with the determination that Ian had expected, but when his lips met Ian's, it was with a startling gentleness, soft and slow at first, building in intensity in this way that made Ian simultaneously impatient and dizzy with the intimacy of it, the way Huber was testing their responses, figuring out exactly what Ian wanted from him.

Ian let their fingers tighten against Huber's head, gasping a little as Huber sucked at their bottom lip, tracing his tongue across it, and they leaned back against the wall of the hallway, dragging Huber with them, no longer quite certain of their ability to concentrate on staying upright, and more interested in getting Huber's body pressed against them. Huber followed their touch willingly, pressing Ian against the wall, one of his hands creeping up Ian's side, under their shirt, to splay out over their ribs as they kissed.

The next time Ian broke the kiss to breathe, Huber didn't pull away, leaving his lips against Ian's skin, dragging them down their cheek to their neck, his hands leaving Ian's sides to trail up and tug suggestively at the buttons on Ian's shirt. "Please," he mouthed against Ian's throat before pressing a hot open-mouthed kiss there, "can I…?"

"Yeah," Ian breathed out, too quiet, voice hoarse, and they cleared their throat before repeating it. "Yeah." They reached a hand down to work the buttons open from the bottom, and when they met in the middle, Huber's hands slipped inside the fabric, feeling their way across Ian's chest, Ian's skin shivering under his touch until he made his way up to Ian's shoulders and pushed the shirt away. Ian let it fall to the floor, enjoying how it felt to have Huber pressed against their naked chest, their arms wrapping around Huber, pulling him closer as Huber's lips fell to their collarbone, latching on there, kissing hard and deep until Ian let out a low moan.

"Oh," Huber said, breaking away and brushing his thumb over the mark he'd left. "Sorry, I - "

"It's okay," Ian interrupted, their voice thicker than expected, catching in their throat. "I like it."

Huber studied Ian's skin, touching their collarbone thoughtfully, and when he leaned back in, his lips pressed higher on Ian's neck, closer to where the mark might be seen over the collar of a shirt. He kissed lightly at first, teasingly, but then there was suction and the scrape of teeth, and Ian's whole body shook against him. Huber made an approving sound against their skin, fingers sliding down over Ian's chest to settle at their waist, curving over their hipbones and pressing them back against the wall as he kissed down Ian's neck, drawing quiet gasps from them.

"Hey," Ian said finally, sinking their fingers into Huber's hair, tugging him back and enjoying the way his eyes went sharp and unfocused at the feeling. They leaned in to kiss Huber again, levering them off the wall, backing him toward the bedroom, and Huber laughed into their mouth as they both stumbled.

"Not quite that coordinated," he said, pulling away and grabbing Ian's hand instead, and Ian led the way to the bedroom, turning to Huber at the foot of the bed and kissing him distractingly as they started to strip off his clothes, jacket hitting the floor first, followed by his shirt, and when Ian's hands dropped to his pants and easily undid the button, Huber gasped against their lips. Ian paused, momentarily worried they'd taken it too far, too fast, but when Huber pulled back, all he said was, "You…want…?" He looked equally worried, hesitant, like he was holding himself back, and in answer, Ian flattened out their hand over the front of Huber's pants, stroking him slowly and deliberately, feeling him respond, and Huber reached down immediately to shove off his pants, kicking his shoes and socks off with them.

Ian grinned, admiring the sight of nearly-naked Huber in front of them for a moment before giving him a light push, toppling him back onto the bed. Huber went along with it easily, letting himself flop back, giving Ian an equally admiring look until Ian climbed onto the bed on top of him, slinging their legs over Huber's hips, cupping his face in their hands as they kissed. Huber's hands were warm and broad against their bare back, sliding across their skin like they couldn't decide where to rest, like he wanted to feel every inch of Ian at once. They were both breathless by the time Ian settled back against Huber's legs, their hips still pressing forward almost involuntarily as Huber's hands skimmed down to them, and Huber let out a laugh as he tightened his fingers there, holding Ian steady.

"Impatient," he said, drawing out the word, and Ian rolled their hips down against him in retribution, enjoying the way Huber's eyes fluttered closed and breath caught at the contact.

"What was that?" Ian asked, wiggling in Huber's lap. "Who's impatient?"

Huber let out a low noise, and the fingers of one of his hands trailed to the front of Ian's pants, playing with the clasp and looking up almost hesitantly, eyebrows raised. Ian gave him a little nod, and Huber undid their pants, starting to pull them open before pausing, letting out a little gasp.

" _Oh_ ," he breathed out as his fingers reached for the soft bright fabric of Ian's panties, clearly unexpected under his dress pants, and Ian grinned.

"Hey, I'm only willing to femme down so much," they said.

"Good," Huber replied roughly, his thumb tracing the edge of the lace at the waistband. Ian shivered, their skin jumping at the light touch, and when Huber slid his hand over to Ian's hip, cupping there and pushing insistently, Ian went along easily, letting Huber roll them back onto the bed, enjoying the brief contact along their whole body as Huber stretched out over them, hand still pressed to his hip, leaning in to kiss them deeply and passionately. "Will you let me…?" Huber asked when he finally broke away, his fingers reaching down along the soft fabric of Ian's panties, and something about the phrasing, the way Huber looked at them so eagerly, was intoxicating, the idea that they could tell Huber whatever they wanted and Huber would follow along with their instructions willingly, eagerly.

"Fuck, yes," Ian replied, " _please_ ," and they tilted their hips up from the bed to let Huber drag their pants off. 

They were expecting Huber to be direct, impatient, to get them naked immediately, but instead he settled back on his heels, taking in the sight of Ian sprawled out on the bed in front of him, flushed and panting and desperate to feel Huber's hands on them again, and he said quietly, " _Look_ at you."

Ian breathed out a laugh. "Can't," they pointed out, and Huber half smiled at that, reaching out to trail a finger down Ian's side, making them squirm, tracing it over their underwear.

"You're _beautiful_ ," Huber said with feeling, and he leaned over Ian again, one of his legs pressing between Ian's, his hand spreading out against their skin, sliding to cup them lightly through the thin fabric of the panties and making Ian arch up into his touch. He kissed them, slow and rough and deep as he touched them, not rocking down against them, keeping his hips carefully over Ian, but his upper body was strong and warm, holding them down, his hand pressing sure and tantalizing to Ian through their underwear, never quite wrapping around them, but giving them just enough pressure, just enough friction, to have Ian shaking and gasping and coming apart under him.

Huber looked smug when he pulled back, so Ian reached up to drag him down into another kiss, wipe the smug smile off his face, leave him looking dazed. They pushed at Huber's boxers until he kicked them off, kneeling there naked over Ian, and Ian didn't give him any time before reaching down to wrap a hand around him, grabbing Huber's hip hard with their other hand, guiding him forward, wanting to feel his desperation. Huber braced himself over Ian, and at Ian's encouragement, he rocked his hips into the touch, letting his head fall forward onto Ian's chest, his eyes flutter closed, panting as he fucked into Ian's hand.

He let out a wordless cry as he came and curled down against Ian, pressing his face into the crook of their neck and landing messy kisses against whatever skin he could reach. Ian breathed out a laugh, ruffling the back of Huber's hair, and they stretched out like that together, Ian reaching for a t-shirt to wipe them off and then tossing it onto the floor, wrapping an arm around Huber's shoulders as Huber sprawled against them.

"So," they said eventually when they'd caught their breath, and Huber made a quiet questioning noise, "we're not going to have a repeat of last night, are we? You're not going to freak out on me and leave or something, right?" They said it like they were joking, like it was light and funny, but they felt a sick twist in his gut at the thought, at the memory of how torn Huber's expression had been as he pulled away from the kiss.

"Mm-mm," Huber mumbled, shaking his head. He lifted it a little to look at Ian. "You don't _want_ me to leave, do you?" he asked, looking a little alarmed.

"Fuck, no," Ian assured him, wrapping their arm tighter around him.

"Mmkay," Huber agreed, collapsing again. He passed out almost immediately, snoring quietly against Ian's skin. Ian closed their eyes, but couldn't sleep, too wired by the feeling of Huber's body against theirs, the memory of Huber touching them, the anticipation of repeating it again, and again. They reached for their phone, thumbing through it idly for a few moments before opening the text string they'd left off with Elyse the night before. They took a shot of themself looking unbearably smug, Huber's face hidden but his hair clear and recognizable pillowed against Ian's shoulder.

They sent the message off, set their phone on the bedside table, and was asleep before the reply came through.  
_____________

 _"So, end of the line, folks. The event's over, going to cut this together to make a_ show _for you guys. And since I've spent the whole episode talking about things I want to add to my list of games to play, instead of Huber's Queue this week, I've decided to answer a question a bunch of you have asked: what does my_ gaming setup _look like? Where do I make the magic happen? So here, I took some sweet shots of my living room at home…you've got your PS4 there, under the TV, the WiiU, I went ahead and_ splurged _on Black Friday this year and came home with an Xbox One, so that's there as well. And in this cabinet, I've got all my older consoles, because you never know when you're going to want to pull one out and relive the_ magic _, right?"_

_The image behind Huber panned around to the couch where Ian was curled up, looking at their phone. They glanced up and waved at the camera, looking bemused._

_"Got the comfy couch, there, all kinds of pillows and blankets so you can just curl up and play indefinitely. And nothing's better than having a good co-op buddy around, right? So yeah. There you have it. The setup. And if you don't mind, I've got an_ epic _list of things I want to play, so I'm just going to – " Huber ducked out of view of the green screen, and the camera wobbled a little as he set it down before appearing from just out of frame, tossing himself onto the couch beside Ian, who grinned, letting an arm fall around Huber's shoulders._

_Huber curled up to them, controller in hand, and the image cut out on a shot of him tilting against Ian, both of them laughing, Huber waving cheerfully at the camera._


End file.
